Updated: 29 December 1998

PRELUDE

                    ''I need protection: The Veilleurs are falling one by one at the hand of the Assamite. Anaïs...''

Alexis raised his head, tears of blood on his cheeks, to look at the demigodess in front of her. Hecate, also known as Meryt-Neith was, at first sight nothing impressive: A young teen, between two ages. Beautiful, but unable to raise the kind of the lust the Toreador sirens could. She was small, with long, dark red hair. But the kind of long hair that could both inspire the darkness of the Abyss and the fires of Hell, both the realms the mythological godess claimed as her own. Her eyes, as black as the shadows she could summon at will, bore no visible expression. In truth, her whole features had no expression. And that was truely frightening...

How different she was from her last, destroyed avatar. Laureen, while not the friendly woman, was cynical, and full of the deadly Esprit the Cour of Paris loved so much. Her contempt was a delight to see, when not directed against oneself. No Hecate was cold, impassive and had an aura of pure power emanating from her, enough to awe even the most blasé Toreador.

                    ''I've already taken my decision: The Assamite will be hunted. In facts, two have already been destroyed, and the six others are fleeing to Alamut.''

                    ''How? I don't understand.''

                    ''The power of the Assamite lies in stealth, but they are poor warriors, once discovered. Paercebal...'' She looked at the black armored warrior in the other hand of the room. ''... already killed one of them. The second was brought to me for interrogation...''

''I wanted to bring the two unalive, but one of them tried to raise the alarm. I had to disable the danger. The other was perfectly staked with his own stake.'' Paercebal nodded to Alexis. The two swordmasters were kin in some way.

                    ''The Assamite is in the dungeons, staked and chained with magic and steel. He is at your disposition, but before, you must contact Ivan. Thierry?''

Thierry Rethers was a special agent of the D.S.T., and while officially working under Alexis'orders, he was in truth working as a mortal agent of Hecate. The relation between the two was mysterious...

                    ''The plane they took just minutes ago will take them to Algier. But they are still flying over our territory: I doubt the pilots will risk their loves for some coffins. Here is the identification, but we have no authority over military resources.''

                    ''If Paercebal can be trusted'' --Despite Hecate's sentence, Alexis knew well about the power and reliability of the Anarch Knight-- ''The Assamite called Ibn Kaci Abdallah, who diablerized your beloved Anaïs is in the plane, fleeing France...''

Alexis took the paper, and smiled. He took his cellular phone, and dialed a number he knew too well...

                    ''Ivan?... Alexis. I have some sensible information, and I require your resources... Yes... The Assamites...''

Thierry and Paercebal smiled, the first like only a human could smile, and the last with the coldness that caracterized those of his Bloodline. Hecate remained emotionless.

                    ''Two fully equipped Rafales will be sent to intercept the plane. They will be brought back to Paris, and Ivan promised their fate would never be forgotten by the Clan of Murderers...''

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